Tag: friends

Lisa’s City

Years ago, my friend Lisa was commissioned to do a mural of the Houston skyline in a corporate building. Sadly, that building has since been renovated, and the mural is gone.

Before she began the mural, she did some rough paintings on canvas to work out her vision. I asked for one of those canvases and recently used it to paint what I titled “Lisa’s City.” Although the edges are somewhat cropped and lost in this photo, if you click on it and get the larger size, you can see the outlines of Lisa’s buildings from the original painting.

I sent her a photo of the work when it was in progress, and it made her happy. Which makes me happy. I’ve been somewhat creatively-impaired lately, so this (unplanned collaboration) was a good experience.

I am a terrible mother

I am mighty amused by the Rex and Dash albums (er, iTunes collections) that Timothy and Marika have done as their dogs’ soundtracks. Tim told me he had plans for some other collections, which I won’t divulge here, but which made him take a tape from me so he could get its song list.

I had just retrieved a set of tapes from their secret hiding place in my car. One is a tape that my friend James made for me. The rest are tapes Tim made for me when he was living in NYC and sent to me (with hundreds okay, dozens, of fortunes from his Asian takeout nights–but let me NOT think of the Three Fortunes cover and get bitter).

I LOVE those tapes. Not only because he was giving me music–a practice that reaches back into my earliest and longest-lasting relationships, when my friends and I used to trade 45s–not that I’m old enough to have had 45s, mind you–but because those tapes gave me insights into Tim’s state of mind during any given time.

The other exciting thing was how he chose to illustrate the tapes’ song lists–the tape “cover” and then, usually, tucked inside, a photo of Tim himself. Photo whore that I am, getting a new picture of Tim–new to me, anyway–was as good as getting the tape. I’d gaze at the photos like a teenage groupie-wannabe and analyze the song list and listen to the tape over and over.

I know that I won’t be making an iTunes soundtrack for Margot and Guinness, but that isn’t what makes me a bad mother. Tim just stuck his head in the door to let me know that he was running an errand and would be leaving the gate open. It struck me that I wasn’t sure both dogs had come inside, so we did a quick check. Margot: on chair in living room. Guinness: not in the house. So Tim went back out and called her, but she didn’t come. Suddenly I remembered and flew to the back door.

“Is she in the car?” I asked.

He looked inside the car and started laughing, because there she was, sitting on go. She jumped in the car when I got out the tapes, so she was only there about ten minutes, but still, if Tim hadn’t been going somewhere, I wonder how long it’d have been before I missed her? Poor Guinness.

Udderly amoosing

Shannon posted a lovely photo on her LJ that included cows. It reminded me of a link Jim sent to some dairy commercials the other night.

Wend your way through that site to the five “TV transmissions” (which are their commercials). I haven’t seen them aired here, but you may have seen them. I think the entire ad campaign is genius!

I may have mentioned this before, but I heard one time that every single day, we see something having to do with a cow. I think that’s true. Maybe cows really do rule the world.

For someone I am thinking of this morning

John Donne
Meditation 17
Devotions upon Emergent Occasions

“No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were. Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee…”

Anti-Gross

After that last LJ entry (I don’t pick the Photo Friday themes!), I figured I owed you something not gross.

Here’s the newest addition to Lynne’s family.

A West Highland terrier, she weighs three pounds at eight weeks old. Her name is Minute, because both Lynne’s son and I said the same thing when we saw her: She’s no bigger than a minute!

We also found out that some people (origins: Minnesota, Maine, California) have never heard that phrase: not as big as a minute. Is this a Southern thing?

It’s Election Day!

Yes, so I did that, as I was instructed by FARB as well as the 20 to 30 e-mails I’ve gotten daily over the past month and the five to ten phone calls that began at 8:30 a.m. every day including Sunday for the past two weeks. LEAVE ME ALONE NOW! What I couldn’t believe was that as I walked out of the school where I vote, I thought, At last. That hippie guy strumming his guitar and saying, “Vote for Kinky!” and the half-dozen campaigners standing on the sidewalk will let me be. But no. A man leaped barriers, pushed his friends aside, said, “I MUST GIVE THIS TO HER!” and shoved a card into my hand because he’s RUNNING NEXT YEAR.

I always vote but can this be finished now? To reward myself, I got a turkey chef salad from Schlotzsky’s, even though every ingredient that is in it is also in my refrigerator (okay, exchange the turkey for chicken, but let’s not quibble).

I saw the Timpire emerge from his lair earlier with Rexford G. Lambert, but they’ve already voted. In fact, this is Texas. Rex probably voted three times.

Weekend at The Compound

The Brides came by Saturday night and showed us honeymoon in Jamaica photos. They’re so sweet and happy! I’m glad they’re home safe and sound.

Tom read the draft of MOONLIGHT AND ROSES and said lots of good things about the stories. I did word processing magic on it today while Tim was writing his preface–which MADE ME CRY! I love him. I’d written my intro quite a while back, but when I found out what he wanted to write, I tossed mine and started over. Then after I read his today, I had to go back and alter mine a little more. That’s one of those good things about collaborating. Your writing partners make you strive to be better.

We both worked to complete the marketing questionnaire. I made a spreadsheet of all the contributors’ contact information and checked their contracts for the zillionth time.

Then I printed out the final draft, read the entire manuscript again cover to cover (Tim did that last week), did some corrections here and there, printed out change pages and an entire second copy, saved it on a disk, and SHIPPED THAT BABY OUT FROM THE AIRPORT POST OFFICE AT THREE A.M. (I’m yelling that so I can make sure Greg hears it.) It’d better be at the publisher on Wednesday, since that’s the day it’s due.

When I read it, I was awed all over again by the stories that were sent to us. Damn. There are some good writers out there.

Bastards.

Kidding.

I really am kidding. I love good writing, and the more of it I get to read, the happier I am. You guys hang on. We’ll start forcing you to brag about yourselves soon. As soon as we’re told that all this is good to go.